


🅛🅐 🅥é🅡🅘🅣é 🅐🅜è🅡🅔

by Baguette_Me_Not



Series: MLB fics [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: And he will throw hands, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Ladybug episode spoilers, Marinette is doing her best to put her crush on hold, NOW INCLUDING Plagg, Or paws, Or whatever he has, Plagg Cares, Post final battle with Hawkmoth, Post half reveal, To help comfort a friend, on both sides now, sentimonster!adrien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2020-10-14 18:49:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20605601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baguette_Me_Not/pseuds/Baguette_Me_Not
Summary: Sooner or later, he’d have to return. Face the facts. Accept it.(He didn’t want to.)





	1. Adrien is sad. They talk about it

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Hi, so apparently Adrien angst is this hot new thing so…
> 
> (Sobs)

𝙻𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚜, 

𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕. 

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 

𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 

~𝙲𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚊 𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚎

* * *

The sun was only just peeking out, a spot of distant light dipping just beneath the horizon, casting light flecks of a sunburnt hue to dance across the deep azure of the Seine. 

Orange rippled, disrupted by a pebble, jagged at all edges and thrust into the waters with such a force that there was no way it could have possibly succeeded in being skimmed.

That said, Adrien did not cease his attempts, sending rock after stone after gravel to be submerged just as those had been before. It was somewhat calming for his mood, as if by doing this he was managing to throw his problems away, keeping the newly revealed truths as nothing more than pebbles, easily concealed and never seen again.

_ Plop. _

But it just wasn’t so, because sooner or later, he’d have to _ return_. Face the facts. Accept it.

(_He didn’t want to. Was never going back an option? _)

(_No_.)

Another pebble flew from his grip, harsher, with many more pent up emotions behind it.

How was this something he could possibly come to accept? Adrien figured he may as well have been sitting amidst an all out war, the sheer amount of bombshells having been dropped on him earlier having left him shaken to the core. The truth and the lies were beginning to grow difficult to differentiate from.

His father… _ Hawkmoth_.

Nathalie… _ Mayura_.

His mother… _ trapped timeless in an actual coffin of all things_.

And him, all this time, all along a-

“Adrien.” 

He startled, lowering the arm half poised to throw as he turned towards the speaker, her voice a gentle warmth in the frosty air of that particular Autumn evening. Still, he remained exactly where he was, eyes trained on the other side of the bank, being unable to bring himself to stare his partner in the eye. 

He knew exactly what he’d see in there.

“Adrien,” She reiterated, softer this time as she came to a standstill. “Are you-”

“Okay?” He found himself wanting to laugh, though the sound only came out as strangled, hysteria ever so slowly creeping its way onto him, “We just battled against _ Hawkmoth_. And despite everything, we _ won. _ Happy_… _I should be happy, shouldn’t I? We’ve been waiting for this moment for years, but I-”

The pebble clattered to the ground.

“-I never imagined it to be _ him _ staring back at us. So many people in Paris! So many faces! And it turns it’s my father?! _ It was never-” _

_ Meant to be him. _

_ (But it was.) _

Ladybug remained silent for a moment, the quiet encompassing them feeling unnaturally still. The very essence of Paris itself seemed to be holding its breath for her.

“...You know that’s not what I meant.”

Adrien’s lips quivered as he swallowed down her words with the ease of someone who had food caught in their throat, his windpipe suddenly feeling way too constricted to be comfortable. 

“I…” He ducked his head. “I know.”

But what was there to say? What could one possibly do given that they were in the same situation as him? How could he react to the fact that his father had straight up told him to his face that he _wasn’t_ _even real_?

He was a fake.

A copycat.

A memory of the son his parents had once adored.

A bitter reminder of what his father had lost.

(_A sentimonster sculpted by his mother’s hand.) _

Hands wrapped their way around him, holding him in tightly as he melted into her embrace, hot tears he had held for so long now stinging his cheeks as he blubbered over her shoulder, words failing to be coherent. Yet, for once he couldn’t find it in himself to care about appearances. This girl — his partner — she felt like _ home_.

_ Warmth_.

“I’m so, so sorry Adrien,” She murmured in hushed tone, and had he had more time to think, he may have realised that she was crying too, “What was done to you _ cruel_. They had no right, no right.” Ladybug shook her head, blinking. “But you’re still you, don’t let this change anything. You’re real. To all of us. To _ me_.”

He pulled himself back out of the hug, tear streaked face frowning. “I… I don’t understand. I’m not-”

“You _ are_! All these memories we’ve shared have been between _ us_. _ You _ are the one who’s Chat Noir, and _ you’re _the one who’s my partner. You’re real enough.”

He opened his mouth in a lame attempt to argue, only to be hushed. 

“Remember Bugette?” _ Nod. _ What had happened to her had been, well, _ horrifying _ to put it mildly. “She was her own person. Her own being — _ just like you are _ . And I wouldn’t change anything about you.” A bittersweet smile began to grow on her face, masked in the light of the setting sun. “And this is going to sound selfish, but… in a way I’m _ glad _ they did it? So I could meet you, Chaton.”

“You-” He rubbed at his eyes, his whole world swimming in a bleary focus. “You mean that?”

Nodding vehemently, her cheeks took up a rosy hue. Though how much of that was the light, it was hard to tell. “You’re too big a part of my life for me to not.”

_ Oh. _

Adrien swallowed, “You don’t think I’m a monster.”

If anything, Ladybug looked like he had personally affronted her. “No, you’re way too considerate for that.”

“And you still want me as your partner?”

“I can’t think of anyone better.”

All track of time had been lost to Adrien oh so long ago, hours seeming like seconds and seconds hours. An all round numbness consuming him. But this peculiar flux of time gave him time to wonder — wonder even as the last of the sun set behind the buildings, and the entirety of Paris was cast in the blanketed shadow of the night — if in time, he too could believe her words.

  
In time.


	2. Plagg will throw hands with clip-on-tie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> … You guys asked for it.

Removing the ring under normal circumstances would have posed difficult for Adrien to pull off. That ring offered him freedom, offered him _ Plagg _ . Yet, in the heat of the moment, his father’s words still echoing across the caverns of his brain ( _ how he was a sentimonster, how he was different) _, he found himself slipping it off without a second thought.

Yes, he would admit the move hadn’t been his brightest, but he needed a clear head. To get away. To escape it all. And that hypothetical image, the one of Plagg staring at him in abject horror, _ his chosen not even being a human _ , it was just too much. He couldn’t face him — _ or anyone_, for that matter.

Ladybug, apparently, hadn’t caught onto that message.

Instead she came to him, hurling piteous pebbles by the riverside and offered a shoulder to lean on. Ladybug gave him warmth. Love.

_ Home_.

As the skies had darkened, evening twisting into night, she had offered him the unthinkable. Not just any home, but hers.

And with that, her identity.

Now, on any other occasion he would have been thrilled. Absolutely over the moon that his teammate was none other than _ the _Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Same girl from his class, same girl who poured her heart and soul into everything and anything she did, be it helping the class or creating new designs. It wasn’t that he wasn’t. As over the moon as part of him was, he couldn’t shake the overbearing cold. It clutched him in its grasp, clawed at him, tore at every scrap of soul in his body until he was left an empty husk, hollow all the way through. Numb. 

He’d never been- _ never felt _ so, so… betrayed. So _ broken _ . Shatterable _ . _ His father's words were worse than whatever any of his previous akumas thrown at him. Miraculous cure wouldn’t be able to heal all wounds this time. 

Only time.

_ A lot _of time.

“My parents say you can take the chaise.” Marinette led him into her room, so pink, so _her _that he couldn’t help but manage a hint of a smile. After spreading out her arms in a sweeping gesture, she started twiddling her thumbs. “So long as we don’t- _AH you know_! No funny business.”

He had a feeling his cheeks were as red as hers.

“I really can’t thank you enough for this my- uh, Marinette. Thank you.” He meant it, too. Without her there was a very distinct possibility he would still be staring off into the Seine, night having swallowed him whole. “I’m a gentleman!”

“Yeah, yeah you are.” She seemed to shake herself before continuing. “The trouble is all mine. _ GAH _ , I mean, no trouble! _ No trouble! _ There is… absolutely no trouble with you being here.”

Adrien relaxed a little, Marinette’s fumbling of words not being something he had heard in a while but, nevertheless, still just as adorable as before. The prospect of her tripping over her words in such a way as Ladybug was baffling to say the least, and he had to admit he was confused about its return. Yet it was endearing, a good old dose of classic Marinette to reintroduce a sense of normalcy into his otherwise upturned life.

“Bags! You can unpack here and...” She blinked, as if taking in him and his baggage-less self for the first time (that was, if you didn’t count the emotional type.) Adrien sent her a guilty shrug. The plan had been ‘get the heck out of that house’ and it had only had as much as one step. Remembering to pack had been the least of his worries.

“Ooooor not… _ sorry_! _ I’m just so used with Alya and all that _ \- hah, don’t need to bother with that then… we’ll sort all of this out in the morning. My Papa might have an old shirt you can use.” Knowing Marinette’s father as he did, having him put in one of his few-sizes-too-big shirts would be enough to have his father, had he been here, faint from the mere idea. _ O’ the audacity! An Agreste in something other than a branded, form fitting outfit? Whatever had the world come to, o’ however shall the name live after he had dragged it through the dirt as so? _ Thankfully, the man was nowhere in sight and he couldn’t help but grin at the thought. Or crumble. Grumble- uh, _ no _ , _ he didn’t mean that at all _! Was it right to be thankful he was gone yet miss home all the same?

Adrien let out another _ thank you _before his thoughts drew him in too deep again.

“Heh, um, _ anyway_.” Marinette sobered up — well, not literally considering she wasn’t ever drunk in the first place, in the very least he assumed so but you kind of never knew with this girl — her whole demeanour shifted into a self-dubbed business mode™, eyes brimming with concern. She spoke softer, “Are you going to be okay? I need to use the bathroom to dress and I don’t want to leave you on your own for a while. Tikki’s in here and I know you have Plagg but-” The namedrop of his kwami sent a guilty jolt down his spine. “I just don’t-”

“I’ll be okay- _ promise _ !” Adrien hastily added at her dubious expression, “This cat knows how to take care of himself… _ M’ilady_.”

It had been the first time he’d reverted back to using one of his many given pet names from their superhero dynamic. It was odd, no masks, but despite all else they were still them. They were treading in new waters now and it just felt… right. Peculiar. But right.

That seemed to ease her as she offered up a playful smile, glad to return to some sort of norm. Marinette proceeded to dive for her clothing chest, pulling out a pair of pyjamas he recognised fondly, albeit with a hint of embarrassment. They had to have been a pair she designed herself — the aspiring designer she was — with her floral insignia printed over the plain white spaghetti strap top. Incidentally, it was the pair she wore as they ran across Paris, escaping from the rabid sea of fans who may as well have been bloodhounds with how they managed to track them down (they latched onto anything really.) He really did feel bad about dragging her into all of that, but hey, it made for a fun, _ interesting _day out.

The trapdoor shut behind Marinette with a thud, her pigtails bobbing as they disappeared down below. His heart fluttered out to her from his partner’s display of kindness, before the weighty knot returned as it hit him just why she had to do so in the first place.

It took a moment before he registered the cold metal that brushed against his fingertips, the action had long since become an unconscious habit. His ring (_Plagg_) still sat at the bottom of his pocket, cold to the touch. 

He’d slipped it off in the heat of the moment, a need to _ get away away away_. The air had long since chilled by now.

Releasing that one traitorous breath he didn’t recall holding, Adrien slipped his Miraculous back on. A simple action but…

With a burst of acidic green (the colour of just how queasy he felt), Plagg materialised in front of him just as he had done before, though lacking the grumbling.

Instead: “_ Kid, what were you-” _ A pause as he went uncharacteristically sombre. “Oh, Adrien. I- where’s some good cheese when you need it the most? _ Mmmm _, Camembert, that sweet gooey texture always makes me feel better.”

Of _ course _ it was cheese he wanted to give him. But, as he’d learned in recent months, it was a way of showing he cared. In typical ’Plaggy’ terms, that was.

“We’re at Marinette’s, I doubt she has hordes of camembert to prepare just for the likes of you. I think her parents sell cheese pasties-” He didn’t miss the way Plagg’s eyes gleamed. “But don’t get any ideas, her family has already done enough for me. I’m not _ stealing _ from them!” 

“For _ you _ maybe.” Adrien’s cast him what could only be summed up as an ‘are you kidding me’ look. “_Alright _ , _ alright_!”

After raising up his paw stubs in a defensive manner and floating back to a comfortable distance, Plagg visibly drooped.

“… I’m sorry, Adrien.” The use of his name alone raised red flags, especially paired with an apology. He’d known there’d be something or other coming from Plagg about all of… _ this _. But an apology? What in the name of Dieu did his kwami feel the need to apologise for? 

“I take it you’re not apologising because you suggested theft.” Which, he should mention, isn’t what you’d call a good idea (Thought he’d put that in there to be doubly sure, just before some angry reader commented that he was promoting cheese theft. He was in fact _ not _. Plagg was.)

“Eh nah. That was a good idea. I’m hungry.” See what he meant? Still, he knew _ exactly _what Plagg was doing here. Simple lighten the mood, distract the other from whatever was plaguing (hah) their thoughts. He knew this, it was a Chat Noir™ tactic.

“When are you not?”

A deep, clearly unnecessary breath. Did kwamis even have respiratory systems? “Kid, I-” Plagg let loose a groan. “_ Gah _, I’m not good with this mushy stuff, but eh, I guess I’m doing this now because of your influence on me.”

“You’re a good kid Adrien, and not that bad of a Chat Noir — trust me, _ you are _. You’re one of the most human I know. You see the good in people, may be a bit naive at times, and I sure don’t but, eh, I mean what I say. You’re one of my kittens, and I’ll be damned if clip-on-tie gets his hands back on you.”

“You think I care you’re not human? You may have not noticed, but neither am I. And I’d say I’m real, heh, the dinosaurs sure knew that.”

“I guess what I’m saying here is you don’t have to be human to be a person.” The kwami froze, instantaneously becoming all too aware of the dead silence that encompassed the room. He floated closer to his chosen. “Kid? _ Kid _? Are you- oh.”

Adrien swiped a sleeve across his face, doing his best attempt at drying up the cascade of tears that had managed to fall outside of his awareness. Though, unlike the blotchy, heartbroken tears of earlier, these new ones shimmered with a heartwarming emotion he had been starting to miss. Joy.

Had he not been focusing on the swell of emotions he was currently under, he may have stopped to wonder where all of these tears had come from. Hadn’t there been enough shed today already?

(But for once, he didn’t mind that someone had left the faucet running.) 

Plagg exhaled an emphatic _ ‘Kid’ _ before nuzzling into Adrien’s cheek, the latter bringing his hands up to cradle him.

“Thank you, Plagg,” He murmured, taking no notice of how his efforts to clean away tears were wasted, “I needed that.”

Surprise of the day: Plagg could be quite the motivational speaker when he cared for it. Adrien may have even teased him about this new discovery, had he not felt like shattered china. Right now he was grateful for it, a small segment of his heart began to pulsate with warmth, tethering up a segment, and cracking on that glue. 

Having his kwami there for him in that moment was just enough.

(And Tikki, munching a cookie on a shelf, couldn’t have been prouder.)

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Started this the same week as I posted part one, and figured I should start clearing out my docs... so here we are. Into the next year XD Happy 2020
> 
> (Once again hope characters are, you know, in character.)

**Author's Note:**

> Now, whilst I find this an interesting concept to write with as a fic, I honestly hope these theories aren’t canon. He’s been put through a lot and this would be… well, too much to the mix.


End file.
